


The Sixteenth Girl

by Christmasrose66



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 07:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19204390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christmasrose66/pseuds/Christmasrose66
Summary: A possible continuation of the storyline from the season 4 episode Paper Hearts, set post season 11, also contains a little domestic MSR fluff





	The Sixteenth Girl

present day

He woke up drenched in sweat, struggling to free himself from the duvet, that seemed to be inexplicably tied around his body. Pushing the offending object away from himself, he lashed out and his arm connected with something more solid.   
"Oww! Mulder!" His companion protested. Suddenly he was jolted wide awake. Had he just hit Scully? Even the thought of doing so accidently, horrified him. He looked at her, his wide eyes filled with pain, at the possibility. Her own expression softened as she looked at him, a slight smile playing at the edge of her lips. It was rapidly replaced by concern, as she took in the sight of his sweat drenched skin, and his hair sticking up in short tufts. Instinctively she reached a hand up to tousle his hair, a simple gesture she had repeated so many times over the years. A movement of muscle memory, soothing both of them without the need for words. She wanted to ask what was wrong, but suspected he wouldn't tell her anyway.  
It was a crisp, clear spring morning, and by some fluke, Scully had two whole days off rotation from the hospital. The small, paper flyer lying on the dining table caught her eye, as she sipped her coffee. It was a tempting prospect, a local open air market. She pictured the three of them strolling around, perhaps finding some items, meeting other families ("other families" when had she begun to allow herself to think like this? to truly believe that Mulder, Lily and herself were a family just like any other?) She was grinning.   
Mulder looked up from his attempts to spoonfeed Lily the yoghurt and flake mush that she seemed to enjoy. Most of the mixture was on the table top, a small blob was trickling down the side of his face. He raised an eyebrow in Scully's direction "Is this funny to you?" he asked, his voice deep and sonorous, with just a hint of humour twinkling in his eyes. Scully blinked, as if suddenly seeing him for the first time, and then she laughed softly, and Mulder truly believed it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. When she suggested the market to him, at that point, he would have agreed to almost anything, just to spend time in her company. Going anywhere with a small child, was like stocking up for an assault on the north face of the Eiger, there were never too many emergencies for which you needed to be prepared. Mulder loaded the car, under Scully's supervision, and finally they set off.   
And so, Mulder found himself ambling along the streets of a small Virginian town, pushing a stroller, with Scully by his side. His mind couldn't quite comprehend the reality of it, he tried hard to concentrate on the solid feel of the stroller's plastic handlebar in his grip, the reality of the smallest of details. Observing Scully's body language, as indication of which stalls caught her attention, he adjusted his steering of the stroller to guide them in the relevant direction. This was real life, Scully and their daughter. The other "reality" was a dream, a nightmare, that he should have shaken off when he woke up. They passed a stall selling small plants, each meticulously labelled, named and priced, "atop sprigs of mint" a familiar voice hissed inside his head, as Scully touched a mint leaf and released the scent into the air. He froze, like a rabbit caught in headlights, the moment passed, and he was back again. Of course, Scully was drawn to the stalls selling baby clothes, how could she resist, they were so cute. Something about the tiny, little outfits just tugged at her heartstrings. She tried not to get caught up in buying too much, telling herself it was a foolish waste of money. But Mulder didn't care, he wanted to see her happy, and if this was all it took, why shouldn't they spoil their miracle daughter? Scully held up several items, Mulder grinned like a fool, and Lily stretched out her hands towards them, desperately trying to escape from the confines of the stroller. There was only so long she would put up with it for, and both parents judged that the time was right to keep walking. Another stall caught Scully's eye, this one featured toys and children's books. "Oh look" Scully murmered, picking up a small blue, green china cup, from a miniture tea set. The pieces were real china, not cheap plastic, and each cup had a pink flower design stenciled onto it. It was completely impractical for a small child, but captivating all the same. Mulder thumbed through the selection of books, and found himself leafing through a copy of "Alice in Wonderland", the brown hardback cover seemed ominously familiar. The cover illustration within a picture frame border, showed Alice and the Mad Hatter sitting down to a tea party, with blue, green cups and a teapot on the table in front of them.   
It was all coming back to him now, threatening to engulf him, like a tidal wave. He stumbled, dropping the book. "Mulder" Scully reached towards him, her small frame belied the strength she contained. He leaned into her, then righted himself. When they exchanged glances, his eyes seemed glazed, as if he couldn't see her, or was looking at something far more distant. The sky too was clouding over, and big single raindrops began to fall. "Let's go" Scully gestured in the direction of their car, and they left the market. "I'll drive" she said, and Mulder didn't even protest. After a few minutes in the car, he said, "Do you remember the Paper Hearts killer?"   
"Roche?" Scully asked. "Yeh" there was silence for a beat, as Scully realised what Mulder's nightmares must have been about. A look passed between them, but she said nothing more. "We never found her, the sixteenth girl" Mulder mumbled, glancing away.

1975

It was truly like being in another country, turn a corner and suddenly you were somewhere else. All the signs were in another language, the voices incomprehensible, their tone excitable and expressive. This was a world where everything seemed to happen outside, at family run cafes, and on street corners. The shadow of the church visible in the background, the elderly relatives peering out of upper windows. This was Boston's "Little Italy". Roche had wandered into the area, inbetween sales calls, looking for a place to eat. As he sat at an outdoor restaurant table, he appeared selfcontained and outwardly respectable, minding his own business and eating his meal. Appearances can be deceptive. Roche used that knowledge to his advantage, looking respectable gained him a foot in the door. He was alert to his surroundings, glancing at the young daughter of the family, as she helped her mother clear tables. "You're a little young for waitressing, aren't you?" he asked, as she moved to clear the table next to him. "I'm 10 years old" she replied. "Angelina, don't bother the customers" her mother chided. Roche winked at Angelina, and commited the name and face to his memory.   
It was 4 months before Roche returned to Little Italy, but this time he hadn't come to eat. At 11.30pm, he stood outside of the restaurant where Angelina's family lived and worked, and watched as the lights went out. He snuck around the rear of the building, hiding behind dumpsters, and nimbly ascended the fire escape. He was like a wild animal on the hunt for prey, the thrill of the chase as exciting to him as he supposed it must be for a lion stalking a zebra. Angelina didn't have a chance.

present day

Mulder's skin itched, he felt uncomfortable inside it, like he wanted to get out, scratch it all off himself. He dug his nails into his flesh. "Mulder!" Scully admonished him, "Please stop" the note of sadness in her voice made him pause.   
"I have to go to Boston" he said, as if this was the next logical step in the conversation. She frowned, remembering Roche's Boston connections. "You can't go alone" she said, running through the possibilities in her head. Maybe Skinner would accompany Mulder? After all, this was still technically an open FBI case.   
"I'll ask Skinner" Mulder said, although she hadn't voiced the suggestion. Skinner was fairly easily persuaded to travel with Mulder to Boston, but far less willing to put up with Mulder's particular brand of case related research activity.  
"I'lll reach out to the Boston field office" Skinner said, keen to ensure that they didn't tread on anyone's toes. Mulder could have cared less. "How can this information be coming to you in dreams Mulder? Roche has been dead for 20 years." Skinner rolled his eyes and paced about.   
"I don't know" Mulder replied, calm and quiet, "but it is". Maybe it was true, what Scully had said, that somehow all the information was in his subconscious, and his brain had been working on the case all these years, until finally the last piece fell into place. Skinner would be more likely to buy that explanation, but Mulder didn't offer it to him.   
"This is the place" Mulder confirmed, as he stood on the outskirts of the area known as Little Italy, "He killed her right here, buried her in her own neighbourhood".   
"That doesn't fit the pattern" Skinner shook his head.  
"This neighbourhood was another country to him" Mulder continued, dismissing Skinner's objections.   
There was building work going on in a side street, a block from the old restaurant, and Mulder clambered into the open hole in the road, to the loud vocal consternation of the builders on site. Skinner trailing behind him, gestured apologetically. Mulder with his hands in the dirt, uncovered the fragile remains of the sixteenth girl, and cried as he finally laid the case to rest.


End file.
